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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30105297">A Little Tenderness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/go_nuclear/pseuds/go_nuclear'>go_nuclear</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gangsta. (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Other, slight violence tw, this was definitely a comfort fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:40:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>587</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30105297</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/go_nuclear/pseuds/go_nuclear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, after the battle's been fought and won, a little tenderness is necessary when you're carried home.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nicolas Brown/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Little Tenderness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>His hands were rough as they rested against yours, still for the moment as you scanned his eyes. You wanted to wipe the blood from his cheek, to give him the tender touch you knew he so desperately wanted, but instead you opted to keep holding his hands, resting your forehead against his as you listened to his soft breathing. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You could hear birds overhead as the clouds shifted, casting jagged shadows over your bodies as your thumbs rubbed against Nicolas’s knuckles. His dark eyes didn’t quite meet yours, as if he was embarrassed to find so much solace in your touch.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His hands swiftly moved out of yours, a concerned look passing across his angled face. “<strong>You’re hurt</strong>,” He signed, his hands reaching out to touch the harsh cut on your cheek, brows furrowing as he took note of the purple and blue blooming across your soft skin.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You shook your head and smiled. “It’s not that bad, promise. You’re hurt worse than I am.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<strong>It’s my fault you got hurt. I should’ve been faster</strong>.” He didn’t meet your eyes when he signed. He didn’t until your fingers softly grazed his chin, guiding his eyes toward you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m okay, Nic.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Let me take care of you,” He said, his uneven voice making your whole body warm.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<strong>Well when you put it like that, how can I say no?</strong>”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nicolas chuckled and bent down, hooking his arms under your legs and back to carry you to the apartment. It was effortless for him, even as he climbed the stairs, holding you up with one arm as he unlocked the door.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Ooh, what happened to <em>you</em>?” Worick remarked from the couch, tapping his cigarette against the small glass ashtray on the coffee table.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Just a couple of mercenaries, nothing we couldn’t handle,” You said with a smile, delighting in the shy way Nic looked down at you as you spoke.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s my girl.” Worick laughed, knowing it would upset Nic if he mentioned how beat up you looked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nicolas sat you on the bathroom counter, deftly gathering all the first aid materials Nina had purposefully left at their house. He washed his hands in the sink, drying them on a threadbare towel before he got to work treating your wounds.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His hands were gentle, cleaning out your scrapes with a bit of alcohol. Every time you winced you watched him tense, noticeably concerned that he’d inadvertently hurt you. His movements were clumsy as he unwrapped the bandages and put them on you, his hands immediately retracting when a soft “<em>fuck” </em>left your lips.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<strong>Did I hurt you?</strong>” his hands stopped in midair, eyes scanning your body for any signs of additional damage.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No, you just...you brushed one of the bruises.” You couldn’t stop the tears that had rushed to your eyes, salt sinking into the uncovered slash across your cheek.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>In a flash Nicolas’s hands were cupping your cheeks, thumbs wiping the tears from your cheeks. You sunk into his touch, tears falling even faster from the effortless affection he displayed. You had never been loved—<em>cared for</em>—in the same way Nicolas did. He was a man who was destined for violence, it seemed, but around you he let free his inner softness and vulnerability.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Don’t cry, it’ll hurt worse.” his voice was soft as he spoke, flicking away tears before they could reach your cut.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You smiled, cheeks rounding out against his palms. “I’ll try. For you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nicolas gave you a shit-eating grin. “Good girl.”</p>
</div>
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